• the petals of the rose scatter. Carried by the wind into the sky. Over the golden moon. Alone i now stand in the field. Starring at the stary sky. Then to my attention a blue rose, alone yet cheerful. Drawn to it i am, unkowingly why. So beautiful and bright are its colors. As a special light from the moon dims to the flower. Gazing at the flower as throu the twisted and wavy sky. Something different from the black rose. The thorns of the rose trimmed. Pain, sorrow hadn't come from this flower. The rose like the tide of the ocean onto the sandy shore